


By Fate's Hands and Human's Making

by AriWrote



Series: Soulbound verse [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, More Relationships to be added, Multi, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, possibly?, slow-burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 14:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6379702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriWrote/pseuds/AriWrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a person's fourteenth birthday, it's custom for a name to appear on their skin, dictating the person they are forever linked to as 'soulmates'. Be it platonic or romantic, the name etched on their skin is someone important to their life. Still, a soulmark is only a promise. It takes two working together to truly make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ryoma and Xander

**Author's Note:**

> For the purpose of this AU, Nohr and Hoshido have different official languages with different alphabets. They instead use a second language, which is considered their secondary official language, for diplomacy purposes. Other countries have this language as their secondary official language besides one, which has it as their main official language. We don't talk about that country though.

 

_I._

When Ryoma turns fourteen, he is eager to show his father his soulmark. He has absolutely no clue as to what it says, but the contents don’t matter as much as the fact of it being there. His father smiles as he sees him approach. “What is it, Ryoma?”

“Look, Father,” he says the smile on his face seeping into his voice. He pulls down his sleeve just enough that his father can see where the mark has formed. He hadn’t been able to get a decent look at it himself yet, since the angle was odd and his elation at its appearance had sent him running to his father as soon as the name had started to appear. Now that he can see it a bit better, he’s struck by how beautiful the writing is. He wonders faintly who might be behind that beautiful writing; he hopes they’re a good person.

His father’s eyebrows knit together as he studies the mark, before a smile breaks out on to his face. “Congratulations, Ryoma. I’m certain your soulmate is wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Ryoma says, a hopeful tone in his voice, “Do you know what it says?”

His father chuckles, one of those full body ones that make Ryoma smile. “Not quite,” his father says and Ryoma deflates a bit, disappointed that he won’t get to know anything more about his soulmate, “but I do know where it’s from.”

Ryoma brightens a bit at that and grabs his father’s hand. “Tell me, please! I want to know who they are.” He wants to know everything he can about the person on the other end of that signature. Were they as beautiful as their writing? Would they like him? Would they like his little siblings? He couldn’t imagine having a soulmate who dislike his siblings.

“If I recall correctly, it’s the language of Nohr. I’ll be visiting in a couple of months on a diplomatic mission. Maybe I can see if anyone can translate it for me. You’ll at least have a name you can understand then. With that and enough diligence, I’m certain you’ll be able to find your soulmate and happiness, Ryoma, like I did.”

The mention of his father’s own soulmate makes Ryoma beam and he begs his father to tell him once more (just once more, he swears) the story of the day he’d met his soulmate. No fairy tale can manage to beat the look of utter devotion that appears on his father’s face as he recounts his first meeting with _her_ and the subsequent courtship. “After all,” he says, “a soulbond is only a possibility. It is not a certainty. If you truly want happiness with your soulmate, you must work for it like any love.”

“Remember, Ryoma,” his father says, his voice and expression taking on a serious note, “A soulmate can be a blessing if you work for it. So work for it, Son. Do not let your chance at happiness slip through your fingers.”

Ryoma nods, his face mirroring the seriousness of his father. He will work for it. He swears to himself that he’ll search until the day he meets his soulmate and once he meets them he'll love them, so he can be just as happy as his father.

However, when Ryoma’s father dies and his little sibling is kidnapped on that diplomacy mission, Ryoma gives up on that promise. He can’t find it in himself to even want to search for his soulmate, as the knowledge that they’re from the same country that killed his father runs through his mind. He ignores the writing, ignores it’s presence on his skin and the thoughts he’d once had of what his soulmate was like. How can they be a good person when they exist in the same world that killed his father? There must have been a mistake.

Damn fate. Damn it all for stealing his father and sibling from him. Damn it for giving him a soulmate from the very country who’d stolen them from him.

* * *

_II._

When Xander turns fourteen, he is too distracted keeping himself alive to notice as the lines of his soul mark carve themselves into his chest. The Concubine Wars spare none and being the crown prince means nothing. Rather than finding safety in his station, Xander finds himself in more danger as crown prince. His brothers and sisters have their mothers, while his own mother is dead, and his father? Well, he’s noticed his father acting strangely ever since he brought Xander’s newest sibling Corrin home, so Xander cannot rely on his father for safety. He is alone among those who wish to pounce on him like dogs in order to place their child as King Garon’s heir.

When he does find a rare moment of peace, nestled away in corner of the library with Camilla, he still has yet to fully realize that the mark is there. Camilla, one of the few siblings of his who truly feel like a sibling no matter her mother, had taken to helping him patch the wounds he gained during any attacks as long as he returned the favor after an unsavory run in with a supposedly friendly healer left both of them wary of outsider help.

(They do not talk about how often the blood staining Camilla’s skin is not her own or how her wounds look more like the wound’s an attacker would sustain. It doesn't bode well to wonder about such things. Such thoughts lead to doubt and he couldn't afford to doubt Camilla. She and Leon were the only one's he had at Castle Krakenburg.)

It was during one of those moments, as she tends to a nasty burn on his shoulder, that her hands suddenly stops and her face brightens. Xander can only give her a look of confusion.

One of Camilla’s hand, still covered in the salve, gestures to a point on his chest, “Your soulmark… It’s appeared. I’ve never seen one in person, only heard of them in fairy tales. It’s even red, Xander.”

It is only then that Xander chances a look down. There he sees the mark Camilla has pointed out. His frown deepens as he stares at the mark above his heart. The name etched on his chest looks nothing like a name and if it was’t for the dark burgundy of the mark, he might have thought they were peculiar scars. It’s letters (or what Xanders assumes are letters) are certainly not Nohrian. Xander can’t even hazard a guess of how it might sound; they are so foreign to him. His soulmate isn’t from his kingdom then. He frowns as if by the sheer power of his disapproval the soulmark might reassemble itself into something more familiar. Why it matters, he knows not. It’s not like if he found his soulmate, he’d be able to be with them.

“I would congratulate you on getting your soulmark, but you don’t look like you’re in a celebratory mood,” Camilla’s voice is light-hearted, but she can’t fully hide the unease. She goes to place her hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him, but seems to rethink her decision mid-motion, “Should we tell Father?”

“Don’t. Father doesn’t need to know,” is all he says. He does not say that he doubts he’ll live long enough to see his soulmate; that if he does not die by his siblings’ hands or on the battle field, he’ll spend his whole life in a marriage forced upon him for political gain. He would have to content himself with that. It is the way of a crown prince. He does not delude himself into believing in fairy tales.

He tries to not to think of his younger years, when stories of soulmates had fascinated him. His mother would tell him fairy tales of soulbound lovers who would find each other against impossible odds. Back then, he had dreamt of finding his soulmate, of the day the name would appear. Back then, he’d even thought his parents were soulmates. They were married after all, and his fairy tales always had the soulbound lovers married. Those childish beliefs had come crashing down when he’d noticed the name printed on his mother’s chest, usually hidden away from the world via a carefully placed collar and a healthy powdering of makeup, was not Garon. He’d doubted his eyes at first, convinced it must have been a trick of the light. It’d only sunk in when he’d noticed the name printed on his father’s wrist was not Katerina. When his mother had died and his father remarried, he couldn’t find it in himself to even wonder if Queen Arete was his father’s soulmate. He’d faced disappointment once; he didn’t want another reminder of what he had to look forward to if he lived to be king. So he didn’t think of it.

Instead he focuses on his sister, whose face has settled into a frown like his. He can almost see the question of ‘Why?’ behind her eyes, waits for it to fall from her lips and leave him fumbling for an answer he didn’t want to give. He was thankful when she spoke nothing and returned to treating his wounds.

They spent the rest of their time in silence. It is only as Xander got up to leave that she spoke again, “Can I tell Corrin and Leo?”

Xander thinks on it for a moment, “I- Let me tell them. When I’m ready. Please.”  He knows (and he’s certain Camilla knows), that he’ll never be ready. Xander will return back to his regular life and forget the mark above his heart is even there. If he can't forget, he’ll act as if it’s not there. It might as well be, for what good it’ll do him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, warning: the upcoming two future chapters will focus on each of the other couples reaction to their soulmark appearing and not on interaction. Chapter four will be the first time we see interaction. The chapter number is a rough estimation and is subject to change. Future couples include: Hinoka/Camilla, Takumi/Leon, and Elise/Sakura. Possible mentions of other soulmate pairs, but they won't be tagged.
> 
> This might end up being a series about different soulbound pairs and the different type of relationships. It hasn't come up but two pairings I'm planning is Garon/His Original Soulmate, platonic soulmates Azura and Corrin, couples with multiple soulmates, and maybe instances of a lack of a soulmate or couples finding happiness without soulmates/with people who aren't their soulmate. Depends on a mixture of interest/will. If you wanna talk or request something, check me out at [here](https://ariwrote.tumblr.com/).


	2. Hinoka and Camilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I uh... apologize for the mood whiplash. This decided to get really fluffy??? I hope you enjoy it, none the less.

_II._

Hinoka couldn’t care less when she turns fourteen and her soulmark appears on her collarbone. She spares it a moment’s glance before returning back to training. A soulmate will not help her save Corrin and so what use is it? She has better things to think about, so she covers it up and doesn't think anything more of it. Her days are spent throwing herself headfirst into training.

While Hinoka chooses to ignore her soulmark, the other kids her age talk about their soulmarks nonstop. They’ve learned to exclude her from such conversations after every well-intentioned question of what her soulmark looks like led to the asker punctured through with glares and harsh words. They don’t outright make fun of her (since she is the princess of Hoshido), but they find subtle ways to show that they think Hinoka’s distain for all things ‘soulmate’ is weird. Hinoka doesn’t care and only continues training.  

The day she falls off her Pegasus hard enough to break her arm is the first day anyone but her sees her soulmark. Mikoto is helping her remove her armor so that she can better assess the damage Hinoka has done to her arm, when she notices. Hinoka stares in confusion at the look of girlish glee on Mikoto’s face. “Oh, Hinoka. Why didn’t you tell me you had a soulmark? I was almost certain you didn’t have one, with how you’ve been reacting to the other children’s prodding.”

Hinoka’s expressions sours and she huffs out, “That’s dumb. Everyone has a soulmark. I just don’t care who my soulmate is.” She cast her eyes to where the words are written on her collarbone. Looking at those words acts as a reminder of sorts, of what she could be doing instead of sitting on a table with her mother discussing the idiocy of soulmarks all because she’d been a bit too reckless with her Pegasus.

“Well,” the wistful sound in Mikoto’s voice directs Hinoka’s attention back to the conversation, “not everyone. Some people never get a name.”

“But I though everyone did? That’s what all the stories say. How can you say that not everyone has a soulmark? That just sounds ridiculous,” Hinoka scrunches up her nose at the idea. Her mother was a smart woman, whatever had gotten into her to make these kinds of claims?

“Oh, Hinoka. I know, because I don’t have a soulmark.” The shock Hinoka felt must having been showing on her face, because Mikoto quickly followed with, “Oh, don’t give me that look, not having a soulmark does not mean I’m doomed to live a loveless life, as you know well enough. I loved your father, didn’t I?”

Hinoka slowly nods, still trying to wrap her mind around Mikoto’s confession. “And I loved others before your father. I do not take my lack of soulmark as a curse, Hinoka. I consider it a gift, for I’m able to love whoever I want without worry of missing out on my soulmate. Now, why don’t we get that arm of yours fixed? You’re probably dying to get back to training.” Mikoto places a kiss upon Hinoka’s forehead as the girl blushes crimson. Was she truly that easy to read?

After Hinoka is as patched up as she can be from a broken arm, Mikoto tries to distract her from her disappointment over being unable to head straight back into training by discussing ways Hinoka can keep herself busy. The (decidedly one-sided) conversation lulls to a close as Mikoto starts to notice the distant look on Hinoka’s face. The idea of Mikoto not having a soulmate ways heavy on her mind. Honestly, Hinoka should have just let it die there, gone to her room, and sulked about her broken arm alone, but her mouth had different plans. “Do you sometimes wonder what it would have been like if you had a soulmate?”

“This again?” Mikoto gives a thoughtful hum, “Well, I mean, I have thought about it. I don’t think anyone who doesn’t have a soulmate hasn’t thought about it at least once. But...”

The pause is long enough that Hinoka grows impatient, “But?”

Mikoto rolls her eyes and runs her fingers through Hinoka’s hair the same way she had when the news of the King Sumeragi’s death had reached Hoshido. “If having a soulmate meant that I would have never had you all, then I’m fine without one.”

“Moooom,” Hinoka says as Mikoto uses the hand in Hinoka’s hair to lead herforward so she can place another kiss on her forehead.

“Oh, let me be sappy. It is my job as your mother, after all.” Hinoka tries to frown, she really does. She fails magnificently.

Hinoka does not suddenly develop the same passion her peers have for her soulmark after her conversation with Mikoto nor does she have any more desire to meet her soulmate as she did before. She does find that her hands are more likely to wander to the place where her soulmark is (of their own accord) and she doesn’t ignore it as much as she used to, sparing it a glance as she sits in the bath. With the realization of her mother’s lack of a soulmate, she finds a new appreciation for hers.

“Hinoka, what are you doing just standing there and smiling?” Takumi asks, his face scrunched in that particular way only eight year olds seem capable of. He pulls on her sleeve, annoyed when she does not  immediately stop what she’s doing and answer him, “We’re suppose to train with big brother Ryoma! We can’t make him wait.”

Hinoka snaps out of whatever trance she had been in, the hand on her collarbone dropping as if she’d been burned. “Y-yeah, sorry. Guess I’m just not feeling well or something.”

“Well don’t think that gets you out of practice! If you don’t watch, I’ll managed to surpass _both_ Ryoma and you,” Takumi replies, turning his nose up and heading towards the training field. Hinoka rolls her eyes, chuckles at her brother’s antics under her breath, and follows after Takumi.

* * *

When Camilla turns fourteen and wakes up to a name in the same language as her brother’s etched in a brilliant scarlet on her wrist, all she can think of is Xander’s reaction to his own soulmark. It’s been four years since then; they haven’t talk about it since. She’s certain he never told their siblings, or at least, that they never showed any signs of knowing. Was he ashamed of the mark? Was the idea of having a non-Nohrian soulmate truly that awful? What would he think when she revealed that she too had such a soulmate? What would others think? Her siblings (what remains of them after the Concubine Wars ended) probably wouldn't think less of her, but…

Camilla starts wearing gloves around other people. Xander gives her new fashion choice nothing more than a raised eyebrow. Leo doesn’t seem to care and offers nothing more than a polite, “Nice gloves”. Corrin mumbles about how cool Camilla looks with gloves and how they wish they could be as cool as their big sister. This makes Camilla blush and mumble that Corrin is plenty cool enough. Elise is too young to care and her reaction consists mostly of tugging on the loose parts of the gloves, not because she’s curious as to what lies behind it, but because it’s something new.

It’s only in the comfort of her room, when she’s certain no one else is around, that she dares to look at the name there. She spends hours tracing it, wondering what the other person is like. Her soulmate’s writing is cute, and Camilla wonders if her soulmate might be a girl. She blushes at that and buries her face in her pillow. She wouldn’t mind her soulmate being another girl. She really, really wouldn’t mind.

The fairy tales she read as a child never had a soulbound couple of the same sex, but those books were stuffy and old. They probably just hadn’t got the memo or something. The more Camilla thinks about it, idly tracing the lines of her soulmate’s name, the more certain she is that the person who penned her soulmark is a girl. Many nights Camilla falls asleep imagining she would be like.

This idea sparks something inside Camilla. She’d never been much of a reader, even though she’d spent a lot of time in her childhood in the library. The library had been her safe heaven away from the horrors of the Concubine Wars, but now that it was over Camilla found it left a bitter taste in her mouth. Still, she had a mission.

She turns to Leo. She feels no shame in asking her nine year old brother for help. He’s obviously the best choice. He’s always in the library, nose shoved in a book. Sometimes she wonders if the boy hasn’t slept in the library, tucked away in a scarcely visited cranny. To her credit, she tries to be very subtle about what she wants, and she’s almost certain that Leo is none the wiser.

Of course he’s very much the wiser, as she finds out in a rather mortifying incident weeks later.  She’s wandering through the aisle, waiting for something to catch her eye when she hears a small voice say, “You’ll probably like that one.”

She’s blushes, ashamed that someone has managed to sneak up on her. She blushes brighter when she see’s who it is.  Leo is behind her, on tip-toes, trying to point out a book on a shelf out of his reach.”W-what?” She stutters out, trying to pretend she hadn’t been surprised by her little brother.

“That book. I think you’ll like it. You’re looking for love stories with girls, right?”

“How do you know that?” Camilla does not squeak; that is a thing she does not do. If Leo so much as tries to insinuate that she does, she will ruin him.

“Really, Big Sister? You haven’t been very discreet,” Leo’s words don’t match with the cute baby-faced child before her; she would be inclined to pinch his cheeks if it wasn’t for the words he was saying, “The books you’ve been picking all have the same theme, but they’ve all been rather poorly written. I think you’ll find this one is much better.”

Camilla pulls the book from its resting place on the shelf. She looks at the cover and reads the back and finds that, yes, she does think she’ll like this one. It’s some book where the two girls are actually soulmates for once and not just with each other because they can’t find their real soulmates. Camilla sighs and looks at her little brother, “Thank… Thank you, Leo. You don’t think it’s weird?”

Leo beams at the praises (and Camilla thinks that maybe she should start praising Leo more if that’s how he looks when he truly smiles) before he registers her other words. His eyebrows knit together and his smile falters. He seems truly confused by her words. “Why would I?”

“Yeah,” Camilla says, clutching the book close to her chest, “why would you?”

Camilla ends up loving the book. Every attempt to return it fails and it eventually takes up a permanent space underneath her pillow. As she rereads the book, she does not think of how she'll probably never be able to be like the girls in it's pages. With no clue what her soulmate's name is and her being well... her, the chances are slim. Still, she can dream.

And dream she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, come visit me [here](https://ariwrote.tumblr.com/). Talk to me about this story, my Nohrian mythology headcanons, or even prompt me.


	3. Leo and Takumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for all those who ship Leokumi: congrats, this ended up being the longest chapter to date.

_III._

When Leo turns fourteen, he doesn’t immediately notice his soulmark has appeared, thanks to the rather unfortunate placement. Such is the hand that life has dealt him. It takes two days for him to notice and even then it’s only Niles’s sharp whistle and a cry of, “My, my, Lord Leo! What is that I spy on your neck? Could it be a tattoo? I never took you as the sort!”

“Do not test my patience, Niles,” He snaps on reflex, hand coming up to cover his neck. Niles snorts, but doesn’t say anything. His smile and wandering eye say enough however. Finally Leo barks out, “It is not a tattoo.”

“Then what is it, Milord?”

“I,” Leo says, blinking as he realizes that he has no clue, “I wasn’t aware I had anything on my neck. Would you tell me what it looks like?”

“Lord Leo, I am a man of many talents but seeing through solid objects is not one of those,” Niles makes a gesture with his hand and Leo realizes that he’s still covering his neck. Leo blushes and drops his arm to his side. He can feel Niles move closer to pull the back of his collar down. It’s an act of trust that Leo has no familiarity with. Letting Niles this close leaves Leo jumpy. He can only hope that Niles hurries up. His fingers are already itching for his spell book, even if it would be useless if Niles actually had any intention to kill him.

“Lord Leo, how old are you?”

Leo frowns. That was a strange question. Leo could see no relevance but answered nonetheless, “I just turned fourteen.”

“I was unaware. Is your family not used to celebrating birthdays or something? Late congratulations are due. You’ve got a soulmark, Milord.”

“I’ve got a- What?” Leo says, turning around to face Niles who seems momentarily dazed by Leo’s reaction, though he soon returns back to his default of flirtatious nonchalance.

“A soulmark, Milord. Surely you’ve heard of them. Some people get names of some other human beings placed on their body, assign a ridiculous importance on said name, and then proceed to whine and bemoan their unluckiness if they don’t find them. It’s all just a big pain in the neck really, Milord. I’m so sorry to say you seem to have one. Never seen one there before, but then again Milord is a one of a kind human being. I expect no less.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Niles,” Leo says, rolling his eyes at the antics of his retainer.

“Ah, I must argue that, Milord Leo. It got me here, didn’t it?”

Leo ignores that quip and Niles manages to only show a little disappointment. He turns around and heads towards his room where he knows he can get a better look at the soulmark on his neck.

Gods, is that a strange idea. He’d known, of course, about soulmarks even if only through the books he read while hidden in the library. His mother had never cared to explain them and his siblings were always tight-lipped when it came to that subject. The only recollection Leo can ever remember of freely speaking with another about soulmarks is the night of Corrin’s fourteenth birthday where the two of them had huddled close in Corrin’s room for some kind of mock sleepover. Corrin had whispered as if they were discussing a prank they wanted Leo to take part in and not some marking on their body.

“I got my soulmark today,” they’d said, eyes seeming to shine in the dim lighting. He could almost see them vibrating with excitement as they asked, “Do you wanna see?”

“Sure, I guess,” Leo had said dismissively. He’d had no doubt that Corrin had already shown off the mark to all their other siblings and was just finally getting around to Leo. He’d placed no importance on the question.

Corrin had curled up a little tighter, but their smile only grew wider as they pulled up the leg of their pants. They motioned with the other hand to the area around their ankle. Leo squinted. The mark was a light grey, almost invisible in the poor light of Corrin’s room, but Leo could make out what looked to be the name ‘Azura’.

“It’s nice?” He’d said, not sure what the proper response was. Whatever it was, his response seemed to be sufficient.

“You’re the first I’ve shown mine to.”  That had finally caught Leo’s attention and he remembers the pride he'd felt when he'd realize Corrin had chosen to tell him before anyone else. His sibling showed no sign of noticing Leo’s shocked expression and continued to babble on, “I just wonder why it’s grey? Aren’t soulmarks supposed to have color? That’s what all the books say. Am I just weird?” They looked at Leo as if he might be able to give them an answer.

Leo couldn’t though; he’d learned about soulmarks the same way Corrin had. He'd bitten his lip and tried to make his voice sound reassuring like Camilla's usually ws, “I’m certain there's a good reason. I doubt you’re weird.”

That had been enough for Corrin, to have reassurance from their smart little brother that they were not weird. They quickly switched to a lighter topic which barely managed to keep Leo’s interest. Said topic was then diverted once more when Elise, upset that she’d been excluded from the sleepover, barged into the room with the intention of wrecking havoc.

(When Leo had returned to Castle Krakenburg, he’d done a more thorough search of the library. He’d found a book tuck away in a dusty, near-forgotten section of the library that proved that Corrin was not in fact ‘weird’. They just had a soulmate of a different sort. Leo couldn’t help but think that the smile on Corrin’s face was worth all the trouble he went through to find the book.)

Beyond that, Leo couldn’t think of a time where soulmarks had been spoken of freely. Even Niles was relatively silent on the subject, except to declaim them as he just had.

“Milord Leo, may I ask where we’re going? We passed the training grounds a couple minutes back,” the aforementioned man spoke up.

“I thought I’d take a detour to see this mark myself,” Leo says. From the corner of his eyes, he can see Niles open his mouth, pause, and then close it. One of Leo’s eyebrows arches in question, but he doesn’t care to ask.

When they finally reach Leo’s room and he manages to get a decent enough angle with a hand mirror and his wardrobe mirror that he can see the back of his neck, he realizes what Niles had been thinking of saying.

“Oh,” is all he can manage. He can see Niles covering his mouth, desperate to prevent himself from laughing.

“Milord, I thought to tell you before we got here, but figured it’d be easier for you to see for yourself,” He asks once he gets his laughter under control.

“Well,” Leo begins, squinting at the image in the mirror. It’s... something, alright. He can vaguely figure out that the mark on his neck might be Hoshidan (which isn’t a pleasant thought to begin with), but the writing, if you could even dare call it that, is so sloppy that Leo isn’t sure he could understand it even if his comprehension of Hoshidan was perfect. Without a thought, he blurts out, “Is my soulmate a toddler?

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Lord Leo. Could it just be some foreign language Milord isn’t familiar with?” Niles offers in some half-baked attempt at reassurance.

“No, I know what it is. It’s just… Gods, I’m almost curious about what kind of person might be on the other end of that monstrosity,” Leo says as he returns the hand mirror back to its resting place.

His curiosity sated, Leo and Niles head back towards the training ground. Neither mentions the soulmark, both for their own reasons. They don’t talk about it ever again. No one says anything when Leo seems to take more interest in learning the Hoshidan language. If his siblings stumble across him pouring over one of the rare books on the Hoshidan language stored away in the walls of the library, he slams it shut and blurts out some excuse about tactics.

* * *

When Takumi turns fourteen, he’s sick in bed and spends the entire day sneezing. Of all the days for him to get sick, it has to be his birthday. Today should be a day of celebration; instead he’s spending it holed up in his room. His mother die her best to ease the worst of it, but his nose and ears still remain resolutely stuffed.

Takumi technically could leave his room if he really wanted. He isn’t contagious, but he refuses to give others the pleasure. Even if he can’t quite hear it, he is certain everyone, his siblings especially, is laughing at him every time he leave his room. The strained look of a held back laugh that he occasionally catches on Ryoma’s face nearly confirms it. It in’t his fault he sounds so nasally.

After he’s made his self-imposed isolation apparent, his siblings take turns visiting for a while. They each do their best to either coax him from his room or ease the pain of a birthday spent sick. Ryoma and Hinoka, while well-intentioned, only make him feel worse. The only one who helps at all is Sakura. She’s even able to get him to agree to a small personal not-quite-a party later in the day. It is more because her teary-eyed face is hard to say no to than any real desire to leave his room. When he's no longer forced to deal with the magic of a teary ten year old, he wonders if Ryoma and Hinoka weren’t behind Sakura’s visit somehow.

Such musings take a backseat to the failed attempts at whispering outside his door. He almost hopes it was intentional. If it isn’t, well, it's good thing neither of his retainers were looking forward to a career as ninjas.

“Hinata, Oboro, come in,” he calls after several minutes pass and they show no sign off leaving or entering. He hopes the frown he places on his face makes his annoyance at the interruption of his self-imposed isolation apparent.

Their voices quiet and Takumi wonders if he might have scared them off. Then the door to his room slides open and Hinata’s head bearing a sheepish grin appears from the opening. “Hey, sorry. We didn’t wake you, did we?”

"No, you didn’t. You would have, but you didn’t,” Takumi mumbles and cringes at the sound of his own voice. 

“That’s good,” Hinata says. His smile is wide and bright, it almost makes Takumi dizzy. The smile stays a few seconds after Hinata starts to tip forward, as if his brain hasn’t quite registered that the smile will soon be greeting the floor. His expression quickly morphs to panic and the words, “Oh shiiii-” spill from his lips as he hastily attempts to catch himself before his head can make contact with the ground.

Oboro appears moments later. She’s nearly the picture perfect example of innocence that Takumi doubts for a moment that she might have had something to do with Hinata’s current state. The smirk that appears on her face quickly corrects that line of thinking.

“Get up and stop causing problems for Lord Takumi,” she says. Even though her words are rough, she still holds out a hand to help Hinata up. He sees her whisper something to him, but Takumi can’t make out what. Whatever it is, Hinata’s face returns to the goofy smile he’d worn earlier.

“What are you here for?” Takumi ask.  His curiosity won over any indignation he might have felt at his retainers, but his frown still remains. “Did Ryoma and Hinoka send you? I already promised to do something later.”

“Huh? Oh, no. We just heard you were sick and figured that was an awful way to spend your birthday. We figured we could help, Milord, by keeping you company while you’re sick in bed,” Hinata says as he dusts off imaginary dirt from his clothes.

Oboro pops in at that, unwilling to allow Hinata to be the sole voice, “You don’t mind, Lord Takumi? Right? We can play games or whatever you want. Anything you want us to do to make this day better, we’ll do!”

Takumi sighs. Hinata and Oboro are staring at him with a determination that implies they won’t back down. He gets the sneaking suspicion that telling them that leaving him alone would make his day better will just mean they’ll stand guard outside his door and he’ll be forced to endure their pseudo-whispered praise of him. Still, he had grown bored. There is only so much you can do while locked in your bedroom and Takumi had nearly exhausted all options. With a huff, Takumi moves over in his bed to allow for two more bodies and extracts one of his arms from his blanket cocoon to pat the free spot next to him, “I guess some company wouldn’t be too bad.”

His retainers both beam at him, but stay rooted to their spots at entrance to his room. Had Takumi not made it obvious for them to join him on the bed? He rolls his eyes and offers a tired, “It’ll be easier to talk if you sit over here. Close the door first, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” they say and then proceed to cringe at the synchronicity. Hinata turns to slide the door closed while Oboro takes her seat on Takumi’s left. Once the door is closed, Hinata takes his place at Takumi’s right.

The result is that Takumi ends up sandwiched between his overly enthusiastic retainers. He knows they’re not trying to squish him, but ‘trying’ means little when the outcome is a failure. He could say something, but he decides that it’s not worth the effort. Instead he says, “So, what have you guys been up to?”

They quickly rush into detailed explanations of their day. Takumi listens as his retainers chatter on, only speaking up every now and then when he can’t avoid it. It’s surprisingly fun, to just sit back and listen as Hinata and Oboro talk about their training or any other topic they stumble on. Takumi is mid-laugh when his eyes latch onto something on Oboro’s neck.

“Oboro, what’s that?”  He blurts out, cutting Hinata off before he can get to the punch line of some cheesy joke.

Oboro starts and she slaps the part of her neck visible to Takumi. She removes her hand a moment later and checks her palm. “Milord, don’t startle me like that. I thought that there was a bug on my neck.”

“Oh,” Hinata says, leaning over Takumi to get a better look at Oboro’s neck, “Isn’t that where your soulmark is?”

“Don’t remind me,” Oboro grumbles and buries her face in her knees.

Hinata rolls his eyes and huffs, returning back to a position that wouldn’t force Takumi into a ball. All three are silent and Takumi worries he might have killed the conversation somehow. Hinata eventually speaks up, “Lord Takumi, it’s your fourteenth birthday?”

“Yeah?” He wonders where Hinata is going with this.

“Then you got your soulmark today, right? What’s it say?”

“Oh, I uh… I forgot about that,” Takumi flushed, “I haven’t noticed anything, but then again I haven’t been looking all that hard.”

“That’s no good, Milord!” Takumi nearly jumps at Oboro’s exclamation, “We’ll just have to look.”

Takumi makes a noise of protest, but it’s useless against the enthusiasm of his retainers. They get to work searching him for any sort of mark. The search starts on the more respectable places and Takumi lets out a sigh of relief when they find it before he’s forced to disrobe. The mark is situated on the backside of his calf and it takes a moment for all three of them to realize the purplish mark isn’t some oddly shaped bruise.

“Wow, your soulmate’s handwriting is really sloppy too! I can’t even understand it,” Hinata blurts out as he stares at the tight signature scrawled across Takumi’s skin. Takumi manages to ignore the unintentional insult to his own handwriting.

“You idiot,” Oboro huffs and shoves Hinata away so that she can better see it, “Lord Takumi’s soulmate isn’t from Hoshido. Of course you can’t read it. You can barely read your native language. I don’t expect you to understand some foreign language.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know-” Hinata says, unwilling to let the blow to his pride slide. Takumi groans and attempts to block his retainer’s squabbling out, but he’s soon dragged in the midst of it. All discussions of soulmarks and soulmates are forgotten in favor of a heated debate on his retainers’ skills.

Hours later, when Ryoma finds Takumi in the middle of an improvised game of three person shogi that’s edging closer and closer to chaos, Takumi has forgotten entirely about the mark. After that, it takes months to remember it's even there. Eventually, the mark fades from his memory until he only recalls it when people ask.


End file.
